Milo was trapped inside a dream, and he could not find his way out.
He lay on his back on a cold, narrow medical table.Stark white walls surrounded him on three sides, with the fourth made of glass. A handful of doctors and scientists in lab coats stood behind it, watching, observing, taking notes with stoic curiosity. Familiar faces in medical masks hovered over him, illuminated from above by bright, blinding lights.
The moments spent in this type of room had been commonplace for as long as he could remember. But today was different. Today, the entire reason he existed would be put to the test. If he succeeded, Mr. Wade would be pleased. Milo would be important to him now. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Wade would let him stay in the city, and take him away from these cold, lonely rooms once and for all. Together, they could be a real family.
The metal door opened, flooding the room with an even brighter light. Slowly, the silhouette of a tall male figure approached. Milo waited to see the dashing face, the neatly combed salt-and-pepper hair, the grin that made his heart flop inside his chest.
He opened his eyes and saw a stranger. Twice as broad as Mr. Wade, this man was handsome in a completely different way. Dark wavy locks rested upon strong shoulders, framing a chiseled, square set jawline covered with stubble. Thick brows sat above brown eyes, deep and mysterious. The shape of his mouth was a flawless combination of suppleness and masculinity.
Milo shuddered, drawing the bedcovers up to his chin.
"Sorry to wake you." The stranger's voice held a rich, deep timbre. "You've been asleep for over twenty-four hours. You should probably eat and drink something."
Milo blinked. "Are you… the one who saved my life?"
"I did what any decent person would have done." The man looked at him with an uncomfortable expression, one that negated his intimidating appearance. "You talk like them."
"Them?" Milo rasped.
"People from Dominus."
"Oh." Milo knew he couldn't hide where he came from, but he didn't think his way of speaking would give it away. In fact, he hadn't realized those on the outside spoke differently until now.
Folding his arms, the larger man cleared his throat awkwardly. "How do you feel?"
"Tired. A bit weak."
"Well, there's a pot of rabbit stew on the stove. I'll fix you a bowl." He left the bedside and moved toward the small open kitchen at the other end of the cabin. "If you need to use the bathroom," he turned, gesturing to a door on the far-left wall, "it's in there."
"Thank you." Milo inwardly cringed as the man headed for the kitchen. So, there was a restroom. He should have searched harder for that door before resorting to the porch.
A savory aroma, rich with spices, meat, and vegetables suddenly hit him, and his mouth watered. He only knew rabbits as lab animals. He'd never tasted rabbit stew, but he was willing to try anything. For a second, he wondered if it had been drugged or poisoned, but he thought better of it. If this man had wanted to kill you, he would have already done so.
Milo sat up slowly, noticing the curtains had been drawn. The strange lamp atop the hearth held a small, glowing flame inside its glass casing. It must have been nighttime.
The burly man returned with a bowl in one hand and a glass of water in the other. The warm light reflecting off his bronze skin gave him a hard appearance, and Milo hoped he might look less intimidating in the daylight.
"Where… exactly am I?" Milo asked.
"About six-hundred miles southeast of where you came from." The man handed him the bowl of stew. "Careful, it's hot."
Milo blinked, his throat growing thick with emotion. He had no idea he'd travelled so far. It was a miracle he was alive. Afraid of giving himself away, he scooped up a spoonful and blew off the steam. Warm, delicious flavors danced around his mouth as he slurped, drawing a small moan out of him. "My apologies," he said with a small cough. "It is just… This is so good. I have not tasted anything like this."
"It's nothing special," one corner of the man's mouth raised a fraction, "but it's better than stale bread and peanut butter, anyway."
Milo nearly dropped the bowl. "Oh, I am so sorry. My hunger got the better of me, and the last thing I had intended to do was eat your—"
"Don't be." The uncomfortable look returned to the man's face. "Enjoy the stew. And make sure you drink this, too." He placed the glass of water on the floorboard beside the bed. "Rest as much as you can. All that matters now is you getting stronger."
Milo managed a small grin. "I cannot thank you enough for your help, sir."
"It's Eldon," the brawny man responded flatly. "Eldon Miller. I'll need your name too eventually, so I can contact your people."
Milo's stomach sank. Mr. Miller had seen the brand on his neck. He must have, otherwise he would have used a more natural word like "family" instead. Did he somehow know about the baby, too? He couldn't. Milo understood very little about natural life, but he knew males were physically incapable of doing what he'd been created for.
Swallowing thickly, he forced himself to look the man in the eye. "My name is Milo."
"And your last name?"
"No last name. Just Milo. And I have no people. I am alone."
"So, you're all the way out here… completely alone?"
"Yes."
Mr. Miller drew his lips inward, seemingly unconvinced. "I see. Well, I'll leave you now to get some rest. I'll be out in the barn if you need anything."
Milo gave a nod. Spinning on his heel, Mr. Miller left and strode out of the cabin. Milo didn't know what he'd expected from the person who saved his life, but it wasn't this. Judging by Mr. Miller's emotionless presence, he must have saved hundreds of people a year. Yes, it was either routine, or the mark of Dominus upon Milo's neck that created the distance. Either way, the man didn't owe him anything. Now that Milo was alive and safe, a crucial, all-consuming fear plagued his thoughts.
What happened next?